Selfish
by KingoftheMoon
Summary: He cared a lot more than he'd like to admit.


**Selfish**

**x**

**x**

When mixed together, Jean and Eren were like poison. A boy fuelled by anger and lust to kill. Every night he dreamt of his victory, the smell of the last of their evaporating bodies. He would kill them all.

The other one, mouth dripping with words that could dampen the brightest person's spirits. A callousness well-polished over the years. There was no hope for the future in this boy's eyes.

And that was probably why they were born to hate each other.

It's just that it was hard to hate him nowadays, especially now that Marco was dead, and Jean looked so damn pitiful on his own without him. Eren often glanced at him out of the corner of his eye when they passed each other. No words were ever exchanged. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time they had an argument, or even talked.

It made sense, those two had been best friends. How had Marco done it? Not even Reiner was able to have a conversation with Jean without having some sort of quarrel.

Nowadays it was different. Dammit, Marco. Jean would have been happy in the Military Police right now, if you could call wasting three years of hard training doing rounds in the inner walls happy – but Jean and Marco would have been together, and that would have counted for something. Why was he putting so much thought into that jerk anyway? Who cared about _Jean?_

Maybe because it was dinner and Mikasa had excused herself to go to the bathroom and Armin hadn't sat down yet, and the seat next to Connie and the other people Jean usually sat with were taken.

So he sat across from Eren.

They were quiet, and Eren wanted to throw his plate at his damn face or flip the table over or anything else than sitting silently and awkwardly (and _politely?)_ with Jean. God damn it, they weren't strangers, or acquaintances.

What _were_ they? Friends? No.

He glanced up from his plate, and Kirschstein, that idiot, got food on his face. Didn't he know how to eat properly? Eren's hand twitched and he snatched up his spoon. Jean raised a brow at him _and don't look at me with that stupid face of yours. Dammit_.

"If you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to have to assume you're in love with me."

"Shut up." He reached over the table and Jean flinched back. Eren scoffed, but he felt his ears burning. He was such an idiot. "You've got crap on your face."

He brushed his thumb across the corner of Jean's mouth and his stomach did this thing that made him feel giddy and uncomfortable simultaneously.

Jean shrugged. "Whatever."

They sat in fragile silence even when Armin and Mikasa got back.

** x**

**x**

As fate and the stars would have it, they ran straight into each other at lights out. Eren had just finished taking his shower and Jean had been, well, he had no idea. He didn't keep tabs on the guy.

"Watch where you're going!" Eren snapped.

"God, what the hell is your problem today?"

"You're my problem," the answer came out way more defensive than he had intended. "Just – leave me alone."

He made to shove past Jean, but a hand clamped on his wrist and Eren almost well jumped out of his skin.

And then Jean was all up in his personal space and Eren felt hot and he needed to get that hand off his wrist because his pulse was beginning to spike at a dangerously fast rate. "What the hell, Kirschstein?"

"Just tell me why you fucking hate me so much."

'Hate' didn't sound exactly right. He just fought with him so much because – well, at first it was because Jean was such a damn idiot, and he still was, but –

Eren wasn't _Marco._ They weren't friends. What else did they have besides their countless arguments? Without their daily quips they had nothing, really. And fuck, they really were beginning to have nothing because Jean had changed, but it's not that Eren wanted to keep anything between them he just –

Dammit. He hated this.

Maybe he did hate Jean. Hated him for his stupid face and the damn confusing feelings he was giving him. God, he had been ignoring this for so long. Would have preferred to keep it that way.

_I'm such an idiot,_ he thought as he haphazardly pressed his mouth against Jean's, who made a surprised noise at the back of his throat.

And then Jean was moving against him, and Eren had no idea what he was doing but he went along with it because fuck it. The hand moved from his wrist to cradle the back of his neck and Jean was so warm, his hand was so warm and his mouth was even warmer, the feeling of his tongue sliding against his own made Eren shiver and what was he doing? _What was he doing?_ Jean was grieving over the death his best friend and Eren was being so damn selfish. Jean didn't want this. He wanted Marco, and he was gone. Jean needed time, not – this.

A familiar pang hit him in the chest. Jean had loved Marco, hadn't he? Or Marco had loved Jean, it was one or the other, or both. Eren knew. They all did. But Marco was gone now. Eren wouldn't want to somehow make himself a substitute for the hole in Jean's heart. Would he? He wasn't that selfish.

He pulled back and he couldn't bring himself to look at Jean.

"Eren?" He couldn't.

Eren ripped his body away and walked in the other direction, he needed to put some distance between them.

He should have probably gone straight to the barracks and pretended to fall asleep, but the night air felt so good on his boiling skin. He sat on the wooden steps and breathed in deep.

He didn't turn around when he heard footsteps behind him, but he did move further to the side when Jean plonked himself beside him.

"…S_o_," Jean said into the silence as Eren glared at the distant trees.

"Fucking stupid."

"Well, sorry about that."

The last thing he wanted from Jean was an apology. It was like the whole thing was a dream.

"Can we just –" he waved his arm vaguely, "pretend that never happened?"

"Oh."Jean sounded a little hurt. But Eren must have imagined that part. The taller boy cleared his throat. "So I'm guessing you don't entirely hate me?"

"No. Maybe."

Jean rolled his eyes and Eren felt himself relax a little at the familiarity of it. They sat in silence for a while longer and Jean shuffled himself closer to the other boy.

"Okay, no more random make outs," he said at length, "But this should be fine, right?" he leaned in and bumped his shoulder against Eren's, closing the space between them.

He sniffed, covering a smile as he leaned his forehead on Jean's shoulder. "Whatever."

Maybe they weren't meant to be mixed together, maybe they were unhealthy, and poison, but Eren couldn't bring himself to care too much at that moment.


End file.
